Lions

The caravan creaked and swayed as it rolled away from the Reaper’s hideout. Knights dressed in light
leather armor moved with practiced efficiency, their expressions grim as they hauled prisoners toward
the cages on the carts. Black-hooded figures were unceremoniously thrown into the iron bars, their
muffled protests lost in the low murmur of the scene.
Nia sat slumped against the side of a cart, her hands bound behind her back. Tears streamed down her
face, her broken arm bound awkwardly at her side. She winced and hissed as the restraints dug into
her injury.
"You bastards! How about tying these nicely, nyah? Or better yet, how about not tying them at all? Oh
wait, you’re too stupid for that!" Her voice cracked as she shot glares at every knight within range. "I
hope your boots fill with mud and your stew’s always cold, dirty humans!"
The knights ignored her, save for one who gave her a bemused glance and muttered, "Charming.
Guess that’s what you get from a house cat."
Behind her, another knight dragged Raven’s limp body onto a separate cart. Nia twisted her head, her
eyes wide with grief.
"Stop! Don’t you dare touch him like that!" she cried, her voice trembling. "Raven… You—You don’t
deserve to touch him!"
Her protests were met with silence as the body was loaded and covered with a coarse cloth. She
sagged, her anger giving way to raw despair, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. "Aza," she
whimpered, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please… come save me."
Nearby, Ash and Jarvis sat on the edge of a cart. The old family doctor, Hargrave, worked methodically.
His weathered hands glowed faintly, carefully mending their injuries. He glanced up briefly, his
expression a mixture of exasperation and concern.
"You two are lucky to be alive," Hargrave muttered, "Though I doubt ‘luck’ had much to do with it."
Jarvis let out a weak chuckle. "Well, luck might've helped a little. I'll admit wasn’t my best performance."
Hargrave shook his head, muttering something about reckless knights as he turned to Ash. "Hold still,
boy. This will sting."
Ash winced as the glow seeped into his side, dulling the sharp ache. His gaze flicked to Jarvis, guilt
shadowing his eyes. “Uncle, I—”
Jarvis raised a hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. What you did was reckless and dangerous, but I get it.
Just… think things through next time, all right?"
"I just… I wanted to prove I could do something. Layne was always better at everything. Smarter.
Stronger. Everyone looked up to him, and I just… I wanted to show that I could…"
Jarvis’s expression softened. "Ash, listen to me. Layne wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes, same as
anyone else. The difference is, he didn’t try to prove anything to anyone. He just… did what he thought
was right. That’s what made him great. Not his strength, not his skill—his heart."
Ash swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "I just wanted to be like him."
Jarvis placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "You don’t need to be Layne. You
just need to be you. And today, you’ve already proven you’re stronger than you think. You remind me of
myself when I was younger—a real handful. I put your father through hell back then.""
The moment hung between them, a quiet understanding settling over the two. Hargrave cleared his
throat, breaking the silence. "All done," he said, packing up his supplies. "Try not to get yourselves
killed before I see you next." With a brief nod, Hargrave rose and walked away, disappearing into the
bustling activity of the caravan.
A hooded spy stepped forward, their face obscured by shadows as they knelt before Jarvis. "My lord,"
the spy said, their voice low and steady. "We’ve discovered their location. Both Aria and the Reaper
Queen were last seen heading into the Animal Kingdom."
Jarvis’s brow furrowed, and he nodded. "Thank you. Keep me updated on any further developments."
He lingered on the spy’s words, recalling just how firmly he’d opposed Ash’s determination to find Aria.
Yet here he was, requesting reports on her whereabouts.
The spy rose and vanished. Jarvis turned to Ash, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Well," he said, leaning back slightly, "I’ve got to head to the Animal Kingdom anyway. Lyra’s cure isn’t
going to fetch itself."
“You mean… I can come?”
Jarvis smirked. "If you’re feeling up to it. And hey, if we happen to run into that girl along the way, well…
I’m sure you’ll handle it." He ruffled Ash’s hair. "What do you say, kid?"
Ash grinned, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "I'm ready when you are, thanks uncle."
The caravan prepared to split, half heading back to the kingdom while the other half, led by Jarvis and
Ash, turned toward the Animal Kingdom. Among those continuing onward was Nia, her cage secured in
one of the carts.
The cart Ash and Jarvis rode in was covered with a sturdy canvas, its interior dimly lit by shafts of
sunlight piercing through small gaps. Wooden benches lined the sides.
Ash stared at his hands, memories of the previous battle still weighing on him. “Uncle,” he murmured, “I
need to get stronger. We barely made it out back there.”
Jarvis ran a hand over his stubbly chin. “Yeah, but we did make it. And next time, we’ll make it look
easy.”
Ash exhaled, eyes clouded with doubt. “I… I just don’t want to be a burden again.”
Jarvis nodded, his tone taking on a measured calm. “If you’re serious about stepping up, we should get
started now.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “All right—summon one of those fancy
daggers for me.
”Ash obliged without hesitation, a black dagger popping into his hand in a flash of shimmering mana.
Sparks of lightning crackled across its surface.
“Nice. Now, while you’re at it, I want you to call up some lightning in your other hand.”
Ash tried, furrowing his brow. The electricity in the dagger flared, but his free hand stayed stubbornly
empty.
Jarvis watched, head tilted. “You’re locking everything into that dagger,” he said, tapping his temple.
“Right now, you’re trying to make two paths—one from your right arm to that dagger, and another from
the first dagger to the second, and then from there to your left hand, completing the circuit. Let the
lightning breathe, and it’ll figure out where to go.”
Ash swallowed, extending both hands. He pictured the lightning weaving its way through him and the
daggers, creating a buzzing circuit. A faint spark flickered… then a bright arc crackled from one blade
to the other, dancing through his arms.
He gasped. “Whoa… it’s like my whole body’s buzzing, but it doesn’t hurt.”
Jarvis grinned, arms still crossed as he observed. “That’s the sweet spot. You’re letting the lightning
use you as a bridge instead of forcing it into one corner. Keep that up, and you’ll be frying any unlucky
bandit who messes with you.”
Ash held the crackling arcs for a few seconds before lowering his hands. The electricity fizzled out,
leaving him breathless yet exhilarated. “So… that’s how I should handle it? Just make sure it has a
path?”
“Exactly,” Jarvis said, giving him a playful elbow-nudge. “You’re trying something new here, Ash. Don’t
push yourself too hard at the start, or you might end up hurting yourself. Take it slow and get a feel for it
first.”
Ash nodded, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “I’ll remember that.”
Jarvis pulled the daggers free, sliding them back to Ash. “Good. Last thing I need is explaining to your
aunt how you turned yourself into charcoal.” He winked. “So keep practicing, kid. You’re well on your
way.”
Despite the lingering strain in his arms, Ash couldn’t help but grin. “Got it. Thanks, Uncle Jarvis.”
Ash leaned back against the cart’s side. His eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off to the rhythmic sway
of the caravan, the sound of Jarvis’s quiet laughter fading into the distance.
Ash hadn’t meant to nap for long. Perhaps only a few minutes had passed when he stirred awake,
lulled back to consciousness by the sudden clamor of raised voices outside the cart. He rubbed his
eyes, blinking away the haze of sleep. The caravan had slowed to a crawl.
Jarvis was already on his feet, peering through the small opening in the canvas. “Stay put for a
second,” he said quietly. Then, in the same breath, he hopped down from the cart and vanished from
Ash’s sight.
Curiosity won out over caution. Ash pushed aside the canvas flap and followed. They were at a
crossroads framed by a crooked signpost and a cluster of old oak trees. Another group of
knights—distinct from Jarvis’s contingent—had come from a side path, their banners fluttering in the
light breeze. A stern-faced officer was arguing with one of Jarvis’s men, the conversation laced with
tension.
Drawing closer, Ash caught snippets of their exchange. Something about a road closure, a landslide in
the pass ahead, and an alternate route needed. The newly arrived knights insisted on leading the way
back toward the kingdom, but Jarvis’s lieutenant was having none of it.
“We’re under orders from Lord Jarvis,” the man said firmly, crossing his arms. “We’ve got a mission that
can’t wait. Whatever’s blocking the main pass, we’ll deal with it ourselves.”
The officer scoffed. “Is your lord prepared to risk the entire caravan? Supplies, prisoners, everything?
The detour is safer.”
“It’s also two days slower,” Jarvis chimed in, stepping up behind his lieutenant. He rested one hand on
his hip, wearing a lopsided grin. “And we don’t exactly have time to spare.”
Ash hovered nearby, unsure if he should speak up. Jarvis glanced at him, then back to the officer.
“Look, we appreciate the concern, but we’ll handle the pass. My nephew here”—he jerked a thumb at
Ash—“has got somewhere to be. And I’ve got no intention of delaying him.”
The officer’s eyes flicked over Ash in mild curiosity, taking in his disheveled hair and still-tattered
clothes. After a tense moment, he shrugged. “Fine. Be on your way then.”
Jarvis’s men resumed their march forward, albeit more cautiously this time. Ash felt a knot of
apprehension tighten in his chest. A landslide? The path ahead was already rough and winding; now it
was partially blocked?
Jarvis clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he said, then signaled the carts
to continue. The caravan rolled onward, the horses snorting as they navigated uneven ground.
Soon, they came upon a jagged wall of rock and earth that had partially collapsed from the
mountainside. Huge boulders littered the road, and a fine layer of dust still clung to the air. The leading
knights dismounted to survey the damage, discussing possible ways to clear a path or skirt around the
obstruction.
While the knights scouted, Ash noticed Nia’s cart rumble to a stop nearby. She was still tied up, her
broken arm in a makeshift sling, but her ears twitched with agitation at the sudden halt. For a fleeting
moment, Ash felt a pang of envy—her defiance, her agility, and the raw speed she had displayed in
combat—even in chains it seemed it might never stand a chance. But the thought soured quickly; she
was dangerous, and he couldn’t let himself forget that.
Jarvis returned from a quick consultation with his men. “We can’t go around. The slope’s too steep, and
if we try to climb it, we’ll risk another slide. We’ll have to clear it.”
A collective groan rose from the group, but Jarvis just laughed lightly. “Come on, you lot. We’re not
exactly delicate flowers. Let’s move some rocks.” Then he turned to Ash. “You feeling up for a bit of
manual labor?” Jarvis asked with a smirk.
“I’ll give it my best shot, Uncle.” He grabbed a shovel and followed Jarvis toward the pile of rubble,
ready to lend whatever strength he had left.
The knights began organizing a makeshift work crew, gathering ropes, shovels, and hammers from the
supply carts. Jarvis took charge, delegating tasks with effortless authority.
Ash peeled off to the side, his body heavy with exhaustion from the earlier magic. The strain gnawed at
his muscles and mind, leaving him caught between doubt and determination. He grabbed a shovel,
hoping he still had enough strength left to make a difference. Each movement was laborious, but he
focused on the scattered rocks near the edge of the path, working to clear them one by one despite the
fatigue.
Jarvis, noticing Ash’s struggle, waved him over. “Why don’t you rest up a little and help with hauling the
smaller debris? We’ll leave the big stuff to the knights, yeah?”
And so the hours passed. Bit by bit, boulders were pried away, rubble was cleared, and the road inched
closer to being passable. Sweat trickled down Ash’s temples, and Jarvis’s tunic was soon dust-stained,
but neither complained. At last, just before twilight, they managed to clear enough space for the carts to
squeeze through.
With the path cleared, the caravan prepared to press on, albeit slowly in the fading light. Ash watched
as Jarvis gave the signal to move out. Despite the hard work and lingering tension, the resolve in the
knights’ eyes seemed stronger than ever. Even Nia, battered though she was, lifted her head at the
promise of forward motion.
Ash climbed back onto the cart beside Jarvis, feeling every ache in his body. As they rolled out, he
caught himself wondering whether they’d find Aria soon, whether Lyra’s cure truly lay in the Animal
Kingdom—and whether he could ever live up to the legacy he’d set out to prove.
Jarvis, as if sensing his thoughts, offered a light bump of the shoulder. “Hey,” he said with a lopsided
smile. “Don’t go all mopey on me now. We made it past one obstacle—there’ll be more, but we’ll handle
them together. Right?”
Ash mustered a weary grin. “Right,” he echoed. And with that, they continued into the deepening
twilight, united by hardship, hope, and the road ahead.